#Sarai's scribbles

[sarai-the-furry]

So I FINALLY finished my redesign of SilverFrost It'll be under the cut because this ref doesnt have her in her uniform Could be considered nudity?? No real anatomical parts are displayed though

[fwitolei]

The Dragon Prince Thoughts 6x06 - Moment of Truth

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Spoilers under the cut

Woah why did everything go monotone except for Kosmo

“This orb…is a giant piece of candy.”

W H A T

HOW

WHAT DO YOU MEAN

HOW THE FUCK DID THEY NOT NOTICE THAT WERE HOLDING A BIG-ASS JAWBREAKER (i know it’s chocolate but you get the idea---)

How tf is a piece of candy glowing in the first place—

You’ve GOT to be kidding me tho

Oh it’s color again—

“I loved your mother, Lissa, very much.”

LISSA REVEAL

I KNEW WE WERE GONNA SEE HER

OOH SHE THICC—

SHE’S BEAUTIFUL OMG

“I suppose I should call it what it is, dark magic.”

Harrow said the same thing in s1 just kill me now—

“Who am I to refuse an invitation from the high mage of Katolis?”

Wait were Kpp’Ar’s bandages ever explained? Why are they so bloody?

SOREN’S LITTLE STUFFY ON VIREN’S DESK AAAHHH

Omg he’s so emotional 😭

“Yes. Yes I see now.”

IS KOSMO REWINDING TIME—

Oooooooh wait no the monotone is him seeing the futureeeeeee

That’s so cool you go kosmo

“Prince Harrow. May I join you?”

AAAAAHHHHH harrow’s little scoot is adorable LMAOOO

Aww he’s so considerate towards  sarai and callum gahhh—

I need them back now how dare they die on me 😭

“Beware, if you ever use dark magic again, the darkness and corruption will overwhelm you.”

I guarantee you he’s gonna use dark magic again watch

Mark my words

“Without magic, how will you stop me?”

I wanna know more about kpp’ar and why he quit dark magic

I bet it has something to do with his bandages

OH SHIT VIREN THROTTLED HIM

“[Kpp’Ar] invested years of his life helping me become… what i became.”

Ooh so viren got his true appearance from the coin spell i thought he was gonna get it from the spell he uses to save soren

“I only see… darkness.”

Omg he’s gonna get to space

GAHH HE’S FALLINGGG—

“Something so simple and… and easy, her tears.”

Omg you can see viren just scribbling the words down as fast as he can just reliving the moment it’s so sad

I feel so bad for him

“I pushed her against the wall and I held the back of her hair to keep her still.”

OH MY GOSH VIREN WHAT—

STOPPPPP I’M GONNA CRY

What is this serious DRAMA omg—

Where the fuck is claudia in all this that’s what i wanna know

Like soren would be sick in bed but considering lissa was full on sobbing you’d think claudia would hear it and go see what’s going on

NO THE WAY CALLUM SMILED AND REACHED OUT TO THE SKY AS HE WAS FALLING

YAY HE’S FLYING

I S T H A T R A Y L A OMG

SLAYYYYY

Ok wait can y’all get away from the edge i can’t trust y’all not to fall and die not at this point

“But the cost was… devastating.”

VIREN STOP CRYING OMG

GREAT NOW I’M CRYING UGH

NOOOO CLAUDIA RUNNING AFTER LISSA

LISSA’S STILL CRYING TOO

The way soren’s looking at viren in confusion MY HEART 😭

“And i punished you with a lifetime of cold cruelty.”

I’M SO DONE

I’M DONE

THIS F U C K I N G SHOW

SOORREEENNNNNNN MY BABY I CAN’T TAKE IT

THE WAY YOU CAN TELL VIREN’S CRYING IN HIS NARRATIONS GAWD—

“No, I… No. The guard was… mistaken.”

NO

GIVE IT TO HIM ISTFG

YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO PUT ME THROUGH ALL THAT AND NOT GIVE IT TO HIM

SOREN SEES IT TOO JUST G I V E I T —

N O O O O O O O O O O 

WHY’D YOU DO THAT

WHAT THE FUCKKKKK—

Okay so i let it simmer overnight and i have a FUCKING LOT to say about this. First of all, how D A R E they make me invested in viren’s letter to soren (INCLUDING A LISSA REVEAL DAMN THAT WOMAN IS BEAUTIFUL—) only for viren to BURN IT UP?!?!!?? Lemme tell you, if i read that letter and saw the teardrop stains and shit on it i would’ve immediately forgiven him idfc free him he did all of it but i don’t care that’s my toxic trait. And for soren to S E E the letter and viren S T I L L chickens out—

*incoherent screaming*

Anyways as you can tell i loved this episode and it’s prolly one of my favorites so far. And YES i saw rayllum kiss F I N A L L Y so yeah here you go

[rodthomaswriting]

Tame

She sipped her glass. All was pleasantly loud as they approached her.

"I'm so glad you're here. I keep getting cougars in my yard."

"Sorry?"

They smiled. "Come on."

She tried to smile back, finishing her glass quickly and going back to the punch bowl.

"Panthers, huh?"

She turned, spilling some.

He held up both hands. "Panthers?"

"Sure," she nodded.

She spent a lot of that evening staring in the bathroom mirror. She hadn't wanted to go to the conference anyway. Was she more qualified than anyone else? There weren't really any connections to be made.

While typing away Monday, it continued.

"How was it?"

"What?"

"The pet convention?"

"It was alright."

"Learn a lot?"

"Um. Yeah."

He smiled. "And they definitely learned a lot from you!" The shoulder slap was unnecessary.

Alright.

Lunch was quiet.

And then the emails started. Alice wanted to meet about her cat.

"I know it's not exactly your area of expertise, but I figured you might know a little about general feline diet?"

She nodded. She had no idea.

Sarai sent three about the upcoming talent show.

"I mean, sorry, but we already told people you signed up."

"Why?"

Sarai smiled. That same eyebrows up half shrug.

"Why?"

"I mean, they'll be kind of disappointed." She did finger guns. "The main event," she laughed nervously.

Another email had her at HR.

"So, what was your complaint?"

"I really don't understand the comment in this email about me being good with a whip."

"It makes sense to me, with all due respect."

"Is that not suggestive to you?"

"Well, not in-context."

"Context." She thought about what in her desk would and wouldn't fit in the bag she was carrying.

"Well," he watered a desk plant, "it is you."

"Uh huh." She took a post-it from his desk and scribbled quietly. And that began her last two weeks.

But it didn't end. The cashier lit up at her frozen chicken. "Ah, feedin' the big cats?"

"The what?"

He smiled. "You do tigers? We have a sale on cinnamon right now. Aisle five." He winked.

Why? Why why why?

And she hated being the new girl.

"Keinan?"

"Yeah?"

"Does Michael sign emails to you with meows?"

"What now?"

She turned her monitor. "I guess some are roars."

"Huh. No. Imani?"

"Yeah, man?"

"Does Mike meow at you in mail?"

Imani blinked. "No."

"He's signing 'meow' to-"

"Oh, well if it's to you, that tracks."

"Why would that make sense?"

Imani smiled. "I'm gonna get more tea."

"Right." He waved. "Good luck." He stared at the screen again. "It is weird."

"Thank you."

"I'll talk to him about it."

"Thanks."

The next day, human resources met her at her desk. "You know, we subsidize mental health services."

"That's cool."

"If you need." His hand was on her chair.

"Ok."

He left.

The first session didn't go much better.

"So your employer referred you?"

"Yes."

"Did she tell you why?"

"No, actually. I'm getting harassed, honestly?"

"Oh?"

"I really don't understand it. I left my last job because someone made a joke about me being good with a whip. They sent me to a pet conference, too. I don't have any pets."

"And you don't see where they're coming from?"

"No."

"So, if I was to ask about my cat's diet-"

"Why do they keep asking that?"

"Honestly, I don't know how to tell you this, but you're going to have to expect that response if you want to get anywhere. Not everyone can tell that your looks don't correspond with… that sort of thing. I know it's frustrating. I'm sure it's hard for you. But you need to be patient."

"Why?"

The therapist sighed.

"I literally don't understand."

"Right." They wrote on their pad. "So how long have you been experiencing psychosis?"

She tried to understand. She really did.

"Hi."

"Hi?" He put a box on the shelf.

"You said something about tigers and cinnamon to me a few weeks ago?"

He smiled. "Yeeaahhhh."

"What did you mean by that?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'm gay."

"No, I-"

"I do have a friend into that sort of thing. I'm no good at it and he's bi."

"Thanks, but that's not what I'm-"

"You do shows of it?"

"… What?"

"You do shows of it locally?"

"Shows of what?"

He smiled, shrugging, then put another box on the shelf.

Soon enough, it was the Christmas party. Not everyone showed, but Keinan did. No one else talked to her, but they seemed happy enough to stare.

"Hey."

"Hi," she said. She felt her sock slipping down in her boot.

"These parties are always so…"

"Boring?"

He nodded. "We'll go with that."

She laughed.

His stare was different. It would continue to be different all night. She accepted his ride home. And he accepted her invitation in.

"I don't believe them." It was a quiet mumble in the dark.

"What?" she whispered.

He held her tighter. "I don't believe you're a lion tamer."

She kissed him. "Thank you."

"You're not a lion tamer, Maggie. I love you. I love-"

"Shhhh…"

It all made Monday very interesting. Things with Keinan were fine, but not the "you again" eyeroll from human resources. "What can I help you with?"

"When did you get the impression I was a lion tamer?"

"I never said that about you."

"I've been told I give that impression. Can you explain why I give that impression?"

"We have firm anti-discrimination policies in line with Title VII at this workplace."

"Who is telling everyone I tame lions? I don't."

He stared.

"Why does everyone think I tame lions?"

"Have you ever done… other big cats? Small exotic animals? Do you-"

"NO!"

"I'd appreciate if you didn't raise your voice at me."

Getting groceries delivered was expensive especially when you live on savings.

The woman at the temp agency turned the license in her hands. She held her hand out.

"What?"

She smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought maybe you had other licenses or… accomplishments." She typed. "So, Microsoft Office. Wow. You're a fast typer. We do have some state park openings."

"I'm only interested in administration."

She laughed. "Sure, honey. Uh huh."

A cat perched outside her window the next morning. It didn't mean to stare either, she was sure.

No emails.

Was it weird to quintuple text him?

Knock knock knock.

She opened her eyes. There were heavy footsteps and tinkering in the kitchen. She combed through her hair with her fingers and stood at the door for ten minutes. Then to the kitchen.

"Oh, sorry. Thought you were- Wait, ain't I seen you at the circus?"

"That was- That was someone else."

He smiled and continued fixing the sink.

She went back to bed.

It was dark out. She didn't put shoes on. She didn't lock the door. Concrete, then asphalt, then grass. Concrete.

"Where are you? Where are you?" She kept walking.

Sure, there were signs. Of course there were signs. She didn't read them.

Very few buildings had lights on.

She stopped. A black and white cat was rubbing against her legs. "Go away." She pet its neck. "Please, go away."

Its yellow eyes stared up at her. It ran through a gap in the fence.

She followed.

The gap was just big enough. Grass again. Stones.

"Alison Brady. 1957-1968."

"Marcus Riddle. 1890-1972. Father."

"B.D. 1896."

There were a few fruit trees in the cemetery. She noticed her leg was bleeding.

"Amy Harward. 1919-2003."

A gazebo a few hundred yards away was lit up. There was another gap in the fence.

She crawled through. The sod gave way to local weeds softer than the grass. She crossed a river. She climbed.

"Can I?"

At the top of the hill was another fence.

"Oh, Maggie. You're so good at fence climbing. Someone like you, I saw you swinging from the trapeze. You're great at-"

Breathing.

She dropped down. The rocks gave a hollow clunk. She climbed a fake stone wall.

"Elephants!"

"Ostrich!"

"North American River Otter!"

"No. No, no, no."

The butterfly area was completely shuttered.

"I know you're here."

"Southern Warthog!"

"California Sea Lion!"

All the signs were so cheerful and green.

"The Baringo Giraffe – Northwest Kenya and Southeast Uganda! Formerly a wider distribution through Africa! They have been exterminated over most of West Africa through overshooting!"

"No."

When she saw it, she climbed the netting. She scraped her knees on plexiglass. The rocks in here were real. The rocks in this one were real.

"African Lion!"

[luxmaeastra]

They shut the ring box the obsidian darker than it naturally should be. It wouldn't call any attention and fit with what he already wore - exactly as intended.

It slipped through the cracks in the wall and to the rooftop of Hewn staring up at the glowworm ceiling. It didn't turn feeling them from miles away. Of course, Hewn shook with his rage far before he'd deigned to appear.

"Hello Nyktos."

"You know that little stunt was futile right?"

He twirled the crude talisman in the shape of a eye eating its tail, an eye carved in the middle. A symbol Attes had made to bind it here and keep it here.

Its form shivered holding off from being called to it. It wanted to unform to become part of that lock and key again. It slowly looked to him, its lips pulled back revealing a yawning void.

"Naturally. Will you make me kneel for you?"

Nyktos stepped toward them hissing as the blade pressed into his throat. The Daimon had come just as they always would when it called for them.

Kertayan pushed him back snatching the tailsmen from his hand. Nyktos glared at him not budging, but not reaching for his blades.

"Someone will pay the price for its actions Vizier."

"Yes. I will."

Kertayan lowered his blade and dropped it. It turned away letting the other Daimons whisk it away. Nyktos stared down at Kertayan, the anger blazed harder than anything else in him. He'd liked Kertayan, had even respected and looked up to him once.

Perhaps it was power that broken that veneer. Perhaps it was how he'd let Kheto disappear. Nyktos leaned toward him gripping his collar.

"Your too good to be suffering for it."

Kertayan's lips twitched and he shrugged.

"I'd say my suffering would hurt it more than its own - but we both know that is a lie. Punish me Nyktos, get that anger out of you."

Nyktos closed his eyes winnowing them to Attes workshop. The older Asteri took his monocles off looking between them in silent question.

"For your study Attes."

Attes dragged his eyes to Kertayan.

"You could just give me Reshaye and -"

"No. Punish me, break me open but you will never have the Jeweled One."

--------

Viren leaned his head against the wall and pointed lazily at the small box on Keir's desk.

"Thank the gods you're back. I was growing bored drinking by myself. What's the box on your desk Keiri?"

--------

Reshaye looked to Umberlee and the charge at her side. They titled their head at the young thing. They felt Umberlee bow to it and slip out the room.

"Sarai. I am told I should meet you. Why?"

"A gift." Keir responded as he scribbled his notes upon the parchment before him, keeping track of how things were forming and changing. His gaze lifted from the page to to brother, an eyebrow rose.

"Is there a reason you are here? Let me guess, has Sarai ran off with someone and finally come to her senses?" He teased him.

--------

"Kertayan." The news had rippled through the court, Nyktos may have thought his actions were just and swift but they did nothing more than provoke. She may be his son's mate, but that did not she would overlook the treatment of those who were dear to her, friends who were in a way a family she had never known she had needed.

Sarai turned, the skirts of her dress moving with her as she moved and chewed at her nail. "I almost stormed that hacks domain, I wanted to tear them all a part. We can't leave him there, I know what he did to you. I have seen what has done to others. I'd rather slip in blood and let this continue."

[blackfae]

oh? what... could this be? 🙃 @submuri

[leoneliterary]

so let’s say mc was patching up the ro’s cause maybe they cut their hand or something in the crushing stage and while doing that they scribble a I think I love you into the ro’s skin with their finger and the ro can’t help but notice mcs all red and glancing at the ro all shy. And it’s all quite until someone comes in. Thank you! 💕

Ooooo, the tension! Alright anon, I'll try to write a little something, but it looks like you've already done the outlining for me lol. I hope you enjoy!

Merikh:

He was a little surprised that you offered to patch up his hand, but to both of your surprise he relents. Your skin against his relaxes him, even if your proximity makes him feel slightly flushed. He leans his head back, savoring the moment, until he feels you tracing something on his palm. He laughs as you begin to wrap his hand again when he looks up, mainly to disguise the shakiness in his voice when he finally says something. "A thief and a healer, eh?" He tilts you head up with his wrapped hand, a waver in his voice. "What else are you?"

Desma:

She lets out a contented sigh and leans her head back, enjoying being in your care. "If I knew I'd get the royal treatment, I'd get hurt far more often." she let's out a short bark of laughter. She enjoys the mundane motions of salve being applied and maybe it's because it's you doing it, but it doesn't seem to have the same sting. When you falter for a moment she cracks open an eye to see what's stopped you, only to feel you delicately tracing something onto her skin. When you realize that you've been caught, you are quick to fluster, but she holds your gaze. "Hmm" she says thoughtfully, "Getting hurt might become a bad habit of mine."

Laverna:

She had clumsily tried to wrap her hand herself, but you intervened to save her from her fumbling. She watches carefully as you wrap her hand, her heart slamming in her chest, and she finds herself beginning to ramble. "I always keep some ointment on hand, on the left, but you already have ointment, like on your cheek—" She reaches out without thinking to wipe the smear of ointment from your cheeks, only to stop mid way as you finish wrapping her hand and slowly trace something onto her palm. You stay like that for a while, her hand outstretched and your hand on hers, both frozen in place.

Sutek:

Being this close to you causes him to fidget. He bounces his leg as you wrap his hand, every once in a while insisting that he can do it himself before you overrule him. It's when he feels your fingers skate across his hand that he goes still. He catches your wrist with his good hand, startling both of you. You're flushed and he swallows thickly, his eyes flitting from your hand to your face, before he releases your wrist. "I've kept you long enough." he says quietly. "I should go." He crosses the room and opens the door be fore saying, in a voice barely above a whisper, "And thank you."

Sarai:

The light dance of your fingers on her palm causes her to raise an eyebrow. In any other situation, she would snatch her hand away, have you dragged away from her. But you are clearly flustered and she can't help but find it...cute. So instead she removes her hand from yours and holds it up, as if inspecting it, then says, "The bandage is a little loose." As if summoned, a servant comes in and rushes to attend to her but she dismisses them with a wave. Placing the hand back in yours, she looks at you intently, and with a firm voice says, "I want you to wrap it again."

Nari:

She feels her face heat up and curses how sensitive her skin feels under your care. "Thank you, for doing this, but I'm sure I could go to a healer." she says, but makes no attempt to pull her hand away, flushing even further. Should she state her feelings? The men in the barracks call this the right timing, right? Whatever words she had prepared die in her throat as your fingers slid across her hand. She stands up so quickly, that she knocks the chair over, your flustered face only adding to her embarrassment. "I—my horse!" it comes out in a hurry, before she takes a deep breath. "I need to feed my horse." she repeats calmly before hurrying out.

Aretas:

He watches you unabashedly as you wrap his hand, enjoying being able to look at you without having to worry about the prying eyes of the court. He feels like a common man around you, and your warm hands on his ease the tension that comes with bearing the weight of the crown. "With you being so good at this, a position for the royal healer might open up soon." he quips. The way you flush avoid his gaze makes him smile, but the particular movements of your fingers tracing something on his hand cause that smile to become a full grin. He leans closer to you. "So, what do you think? Would you be interested in staying by my side?"

Heka:

He winces slightly, both from the slight sting of ointment and from how your fingers on his hand made his face hot. Is he sweating? Oh Heavenly Architect, he is sweating. Watching your deft hands continue to work, he clears his throat and quietly speaks. "I am sorry that I have to trouble you this way." You don't answer, but instead he feels you trace something onto his hand. He looks up sharply from both of your hands and gently, but firmly takes . For a brief moment all bashfulness seems to have left him. "But I am glad that you are with me."

[jelzorz]

fics fighting fires: 10

With a big big thank you to @chess-blackfyre for their donation to our amazing Firies! You guys have been so generous so far and I can’t thank you all enough for all your support. I’m still trying to catch up on the commissions that I have, but if you would still like to donate to Australian bushfire relief in exchange for fic, @aaravosed is taking commissions right up to the end of Australian summer!

-

She’s not interested, she tells herself. Harrow is cocky and mischievous and so immature for someone who’s supposed to be a prince, and he might be funny, sure, and she might be a little enamoured by the way he smiles, but she’s absolutely not interested, and she’ll swear by that until she’s blue in the face. 

What interest would Harrow have in her, anyway? She’s a widow at court with a four year old son, and, in any case, it’s too soon. Rickard’s only been gone two years, and it would be disrespectful to his memory to even entertain the notion that she might be interested. It’s true that Harrow’s been nothing but a gentleman - happy to give her his friendship and support on hard days, and the space she needs to mourn her husband, even now - but Callum’s growing up to look more like his father every day, and it’s hard not to see him in the green of his eyes. 

You can’t guilt yourself out of happiness forever, signs Amaya. The downturn of her lips is disapproving. This is not what Rickard would want.

Sarai scowls at her. What would you know about what Rickard would want? He’s dead.

Amaya winces, and her hands falter. They’re wandering the colonnade this morning. Callum’s drawing stick figures into the dirt a little way away. It’s rare that Sarai can allow him to be the child that he is, and she hates it because he deserves better. He should know his father. He should know a father - and Sarai catches her mind drifting to Harrow again before guilt freezes her insides once more. 

Amaya must see it. She catches her sister’s hand. Sarai.

Sarai shakes her head. I’m not interested, Amaya, she signs tiredly. 

You are, insists Amaya. This isn’t fair. To you, or to Callum.

What isn’t fair is the fact that Rickard will never see Callum grow up, signs Sarai stubbornly. She’s glad they’re signing. There’s a lump in her throat, and this conversation is growing difficult. She takes a breath and distracts herself with Callum - only it’s not just Callum in the courtyard anymore. It’s Harrow too, and there’s a smile on his face and a stick in his hand. There’s mud on his slacks, but he doesn’t care, and Callum’s own smile is bright and familiar.

Her breath catches. Her heart stills.

“This one’s me,” Callum’s saying, jabbing his stick at the little scribble in the mud. “And this one’s Mom, and that one’s Aunt Amaya.”

“A perfect likeness,” says Harrow proudly. “Of all of you! But you know, I think you need a castle. So your stick figures have somewhere to live. What do you think?”

Callum nods, those brilliant green eyes of his wide and eager. “Will you help me?”

“Of course!” says Harrow. “You’re the artist though. You tell me what to do.”

It’s not what Sarai expected. It’s not the character Harrow usually lets her see. He’s always been kind, and caring, and gentle, and it’s not like he’s ever been indifferent to her son, but this -

This is warm. This is right.

This is love.

Rickard would understand, signs Amaya. He’d want nothing less than for you and Callum to be happy. How can you deny him that? How can you deny Callum that?

Sarai sucks in a breath. She’d forgotten she could do that. She’d been so caught up in watching the scene in the courtyard, she’d almost forgotten about her own guilt. Her chest doesn’t feel so cold anymore, and she finds her lips twitching upwards as Callum orders Harrow through the mud.

Maybe she is interested, she admits to herself at last. 

Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

[kaseyskat]

Heart of Xadia, Chapter 2 - Communication is Key

You’re staring off into space again.”

“Huh?” Callum jerks out of his thoughts, blinking.

King Harrow - his stepfather, he should say - laughs from across the table. It’s dinnertime here at the castle, and normally Callum’s more involved. It is the only time he has to freely talk to his parents, after all.

“He’s been doing that for days,” Ezran complains, “not even Bait has snapped him out of his thoughts.”

“Sounds like somebody has something to think about,” his mom, Sarai, says almost teasingly, her eyes sparkling, “or maybe someone?”

Callum flushes red, picking at his food with his fork to distract himself. Normally, his mom’s teasing doesn’t get to him(much), but her words hit so close to the truth it almost gives himself away.

“It isn’t like that,” he says defensively, “it’s just that, well, Claudia gave me something for my birthday and I’m still trying to figure it out. I guess I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Oh, it’s magic again,” Ezran snorts. Ever since turning thirteen, his younger brother has become more snippety and sarcastic than before. Callum hopes it’s only teenage-related.

“I suppose magic is just as distracting as a beautiful girl,” Sarai says, sneaking a sly glance at Harrow as she says it.

“I suppose,” Harrow agrees, wrapping an arm around her.

Callum sighs, pushing his plate forward before standing up, “I’m leaving.”

“Have fun with your magic!” His mom calls after him as he walks away from the dining room. He rolls his eyes, walking down towards the entrance of the secret tunnels.

His mom is right, as always - it is a girl on his mind. A specific girl. A moonshadow elf.

Can they blame him, though? Elves were all but extinct nowadays, and the opportunity to actually talk to a real elf is one he could never pass up. Not to mention one of the six moonshadow elf assassins that really kickstarted the war - he has so many questions.

He had some answered over the past week. Although his time had been limited, he sneaks down into the corridors anytime he has a chance, if it means getting to talk to Rayla. Talking to her, learning more about the elves… it’s been a dream come true.

Fingers drum against his side as he hustles down the corridors, casting the occasional light spell to illuminate the dark hallways. He hardly remembers the path, as twisted as the halls are. Over the week, he’s gotten better at not making a wrong turn somewhere, but he’s still unsure.

Luckily, this time, he weaves through the tunnels easily, and arrives at the room he had dubbed the “mirror room” without distraction. The mirror sits against the wall, as always, the surface blank. Callum glances behind him, making sure he wasn’t followed - a habit, even though Viren was imprisoned months ago.

“Ilyin nostrum,” he whispers once again, drawing the runes in the air.

The mirror shimmers and then the room appears. Nothing has changed much, save for a rough sketch of him pinned to the wall facing him. Callum almost feels touched.

Rayla’s sitting facing her desk, her back hunched over. She doesn’t seem to have noticed him, so Callum lightly taps the mirror. Reminiscent of their first meeting, Rayla jumps, her head turning to give him a sheepish glance. She stands, picking up the piece of paper she had been writing on, and rushes over to him.

Callum waves, tugging his sketchbook out. He’s already written his first message, but before he can do anything, Rayla shakes her head. She holds her own paper up.

I HAVE A WAY FOR US TO COMMUNICATE BETTER, the paper reads in her messy handwriting.

Callum raises an eyebrow. She hasn’t said anything about an easier way to talk - although to be fair, he was going to ask, if only because he’s running out of paper in his sketchbook.

He tilts his head and nods, a silent means of communication.

Rayla offers another smile - one slightly more teasing, a smile that almost makes Callum question himself on her trustworthiness - before turning her back to quickly scribble something else down.

LARIGNA, the paper reads now, and underneath is a rune.

Callum frowns - a small part of his brain tells him that he really shouldn’t be trusting a moonshadow elf who had been trapped in a mirror for years - but nevertheless he draws the rune in the air. “Larigna.”

As soon as he speaks the words, a small tendril of purple seeps from the mirror. It curls around his head, producing a tingling sensation that has Callum shivering.

“...can you hear me?” A distinct, female voice asks.

Callum glances around him, confused, before turning back to the mirror. Rayla is looking at him curiously. She opens her mouth.

“Well, can you?” And the words line up so perfectly with her mouth…

“Rayla?” He asks aloud, staring her dead in the eyes.

“Callum,” she says back, her voice whimsical.

Briefly, he wonders how he can understand her - when they spoke through written words, they both used the language of magic. It must show in his face, because she chuckles - a musical sound - and sets her paper down.

“It’s the only spell I actually know. A communication spell. It lets the two people talk to each other no matter where they are or what language they speak.” She explains, crossing her arms in front of her.

“That’s… that’s really cool,” Callum grins at her, “I can’t believe we’re actually talking.”

“Says you,” Rayla says with a sigh, “I haven’t heard an actual voice in years.”

Although she doesn’t sound accusatory - not in the slightest- Callum still feels the smallest pang of guilt. When they first started talking, she had told him that the reason she felt no ill will towards him was because it wasn’t him who trapped her, but he still feels… well, bad that humans had stolen her from her normal life and imprisoned her.

Once again, his guilt must show on his face because Rayla’s expression softens. She tugs a chair towards her and takes a seat, “Come on, sad human. I think we left off on moonshadow magic.”

Although he still feels bad, Callum lets himself smile softly and sit down, legs crossing. “Right.”

[jamlyjar]

Ghoti’s Journal, Entry 2-1

Journal,

That last minute training did not even make a ghost of a difference.

When we ventured out into the wood, early the next morning, I made a fool of myself in combat once more. It was like I could hear the other's laughter echoing in my head. Like I never left home. Same results as always, a disgrace to my order. This would never happen if I was anything like [harsh scribbling]

But he isn’t here. I am.

The wolves were dealt with easily enough. It was the man in a wolf’s shape who did not go down easily. Sarai, who can speak with wolves (this is very common magic, you know, journal), learned from them that some creature afflicted with a terrible hunger was stealing all the local game. This is what led the lesser wolves to the attack the Arbolean settlements. 

The great hungry one was a Lycan. A common enough individual, save for the madness, and the fact that his transformation did not seem to have been gifted in the usual way. I do not know what to make of that. Sarai boiled him alive in his armor, and I stabilized him. Did you know she can heal as well? Sarai and Ms. Cresentia’s skill in magic make the little amusements I can weave out of water seem quite childish, in comparison. 

Let alone whatever it is Apia does.

I was reluctant to hand an Imperial citizen over to the Arbolean’s justice, but the Hierophant assured us they would return his custody. I hope that we can trust them. Part of me expects we will never see that poor man again.

It would be simpler if the Arboleans surrendered their sovereignty to the Empire. After all, the Char peoples seem indifferent to Imperial leadership. That’s what I’ve always heard, and Sarai seems perfectly happy, so I suppose it’s true. There’s just no need for all of this violence just to stave off the inevitable.

Ghoti Birtwhistle

[herenortherenearnorfar]

Some more TDP headcanons that didn’t quite make it into my fic.

Sarai didn’t consider herself an artist but she did do a lot of drawing. Maps, battlefields plans, observations about potential enemy weaknesses. She had steady hand and a keen eye. As a child, Callum would sit next to her while she worked and scribble on her discarded drafts.

She was three months pregnant with Ezran when she and Harrow finally got married (in between their responsibilities and politics, they just kept putting it off.) Their friends teased them a bit about their six month baby and shotgun wedding.

During those six months, Callum was legally crown prince. They were possibly the most stressful six months of his life. Way too much responsibility for a shy four year old.

Claudia and Soren’s mom is actually alive, just not on speaking terms with their father. For most of the kids’ childhood they had joint custody and it wasnt until Claudia was about thirteen and needed more magical mentorship that they both started living at the castle full time.

There were some awkward child swaps when they were younger. Sarai often got asked to attend, as a moderating presence, and one of Ezran’s first memories is of playing in the market with Callum, Claudia, and Soren while his mother tried to mediate a vicious debate about the appropriateness of teaching the dark arts to an eight year old.

Gren was in his mid-teens when he started working with General Amaya. As a result a lot of the older soldiers in her battalion still baby him. He used to be an awkward, blushing teenager who panicked at the sight of blood, and they’ll never let him forget it.

Amaya on the other hand has always taken him seriously, which he appreciates since he did go through his 19 year old sad poetry phase in front of her.

[misterbobhanna-blog]

Experiences of the Crimean War as described in the letters of Privates Thomas Towner and Daniel Anguish  (1854 1856)

 Post 1: Problems Related to Writing Home

“I suppose that you think that I am shot since you have not heard from me for so long but thank God I am not yet but I have had some near escapes.”1.

 These are the words of Private Thomas Towner (95th Light Infantry) taken from the first of two copies of extant letters sent from the battlefront to his mother and father. This letter is dated December 21st or 22nd 1854, after Thomas Towner had already been in the Crimea for over three months. It hints at the difficulty ordinary soldiers had in getting letters to their loved ones from the arena of the Crimean war. He explains that he has not had ten minutes to himself since landing in Russia. This is not surprising since the allies had already been through the battles of Alma, Balaclava and Inkerman and were now investing Sebastopol.  At the end of his letter, Thomas says that he hopes that his mother will keep writing to him because although he has been a good while trying he has not had the time to write to her.

Letter from Thomas Towner dated December 21st or 22nd 1854

In his second extant letter, dated March 25th 1855, he apologises to his mother again:

“I dare say you think it very hard that I do not write oftener to you but really our time is so greatly taken up with Hard Duty that it is very seldom you get time to write.”2

 Bearing in mind the sporadic intensity of the fighting between the allies and the Russians at this stage of the siege, Private Towner will not have had much opportunity, let alone any leisure time, to write to his parents. The special correspondent of The Times newspaper, William Howard Russell, whose eye-witness accounts of the conflict kept the British public informed of the real conditions of the troops, said that in the latter part of March 1855, because of the risk of Russian attack, the British were obliged to keep men in the trenches before Sebastopol for twenty-four hours at a time, meaning that the men had no more three nights out of seven in bed.3

 In the letters of Daniel Anguish (1st Battalion Coldstream Guards) the problems of ordinary soldiers in communicating with their loved ones from the Crimea are eloquently represented in the first extant letter relating to Daniel. This letter, dated 8th of January 1855, is not from Private Anguish himself, but from an official of the Horse Guards (signature illegible) It reads:

 “Mr Anguish,

In answer to your letter of the 2nd instant, I have to inform you that the name of Daniel Anguish, not having appeared in any of the lists of men killed or wounded or of men having died for any other cause, it is presumed that he is alive at the present time.”4

Letter from a representative of the Horse Guards 8th December 1855

The letter indicates that Daniel Anguish’s parents have not heard from him for some considerable time, if at all, since his arrival in the Crimea on the 14th of September, 1854. Some light is thrown on this in Daniel’s first extant letter dated January 11th, 1855. He says that he has at last taken up his pen to write a few lines, and he explains that he is very unwell, but hopes to recover soon.  It is possible that because of his illness he is hors de combat and this may have allowed him the time to write. However he goes on to describe the difficulty he has had in writing to them, saying:

 “I have only been hill two or three days with Bad legs But I hope they will soon get better no dought But you will think it unkind of me not wrighting to you before now But it is such a burdon to get papper to wright with or I would of rote to you before this (sic).”5 

 This extract shows that over and above the conditions he has to endure, the practical difficulties of finding the materials to write with have prevented him from communicating with his family. He elaborates further on such difficulties thus:

 “This Bit of Papper cost me a Shilling and a verrey ard job to get it atorl it would give me much pledger to wright to you as awfen as I could. I will wright to you as soon as you write to me if you will please to send me some papper and stamps so I can wright to you again” (sic).6

 Towards the end of this letter Daniel asks his parents to request a letter from “Saray” whose identity or relationship to Daniel isn’t divulged. However, he says that he would have responded to her previous letter but he could not read her address. The problems of communication are further highlighted by Daniel when he asks his parents to make sure that they put three stamps on their next letter to him, otherwise he says he will not get it.

Two months later, in a letter to his brother, dated March 10th1855 and sent from the “Camp before Sebastopol”, Daniel further emphasises the practical difficulties he faces in sending letters home from the Crimea. He writes:

 “I must now conclude with my love to father and mother Brothers and sisters you must wright and let me know how you all get on and send out some Stamps as I cannot get them out here for love or money.”(sic) 7

 In their letters home, both Thomas Towner and Andrew Anguish take the trouble to tell their parents if they have seen any fellow soldiers who are the sons of their and their parents’ acquaintances. Thomas Towner says to his mother at the end of his first letter (December 22nd 1854) to be sure to tell “Mrs Boyce” that he has seen her son recently and that he is alive and well. In the same way, Andrew Anguish, in the top left hand corner of the first page of his second letter to his father and mother, scribbles the following message, presumably to be passed on to his parents and family:

“ I have seen Steven Riches and he is quite well… was at our camp the other day.” 8

 It may have been the case that one or both of these young men mentioned by Thomas Towner and Andrew Anguish in their letters were illiterate and may not have been able to write home to their parents. In which case those messages will have been gladly received by their loved ones back in England.

On the other hand, one of the remarkable aspects of these letters is the fact that both Thomas Towner and Andrew Anguish are literate, despite the fact that they are working-class and that they are at the bottom of the pecking order in the ranks of the British army. This reflects the findings of surveys in the early part of Queen Victoria’s reign, which suggested a major growth in the literacy levels of the working classes.9 This contrasts starkly with the situation in the centuries preceding the nineteenth when illiteracy amongst common soldiers was more likely to have been the norm. 10

 Bob Hanna – 01/11/17

[1] NRO: BOL/28-31

[2] Ibid

[3] Russell W.H., Battles of the Crimean War, Amberley Publishing, 2004, p. 141

[4] NRO: MC20/40

[5] Ibid

[6] Ibid

[7] Ibid

[8] Ibid

[9] Wilson A. N., The Victorians, Arrow Books, 2003, p. 363

[10] Keegan J., The Face of Battle, Pimlico, 2004,p. 32

[auduna-druitt]

Teddy Bear Doctor

Fandom: Star Trek (AOS)

Pairing: None. It’s Bones being a daddy and a big softie.

Word Count: 1410

Rating: Everyone (It’s pure fluff)

Beta’d: No

Prompts: Bones keeps a teddy bear on the Enterprise for when he treats children and Bones helps Joanna play doctor to her teddy bear and If you look closely there’s a smidge of “Comfort item brought onboard gets discovered”.

Tags: @kirkaholic123, @blueoftheenterprise, @yourtropegirl, @the-witching-hours12-3 @annalisehartmann @thevalesofanduin

The Enterprise’s latest mission involves the transport of a number of delegates and ambassadors of various planets to Starbase Babel for a peace conference. The ambassador from Earth had brought her daughter along since they have family at the starbase. She'd been delighting the crew since the moment she stepped foot on the ship. As a part of the senior crew of the Enterprise McCoy had reluctantly tagged along to greet the ambassador but had been called away for an emergency in the med bay.

Two days later he sits behind his desk and sighs heavily as he picks up the PADD. The ambassador’s daughter had come into the med bay a few hours ago and is now sedated just a few feet away from his office. He starts filling out the report but can't help glancing up every now and then as the nurses bustle past his door. The little girl is roughly the same age as his own daughter back on Earth and he can't stop thinking about her.

He sets the PADD down and looks at the photograph on his desk. Donna had taken it just before he left for the five year mission. Joanna stares up at the camera grinning broadly and hugging her favorite teddy bear that looks more like a mummy than a bear. He smiles to himself.

~*~*~

Leonard walks quietly down the hall to his daughter’s room and peers in the door, she's been playing alone a little too quietly.  The dark haired little girl sits in the middle of her bed with her teddy bear propped up in front of her. She’s gathered every piece of her old fashioned toy doctor’s kit her aunt Donna got her for her birthday and laid it all out beside her. Picking up the stethoscope and places it in her ears before setting the other end over where the bears heart should be.

“Your heartbeat sounds good Mister Scribbles. Now I need to check your flexes.” She replaces the stethoscope on the bed and picks up a small hammer like instrument and gently taps the bear’s “knee”. Nodding she puts the instrument down and picks up a roll of bandages and wraps both of the bear’s arms. “You’ll be okay. I’m gonna check your heartbeat again just to be sure.” She puts the stethoscope on again and places it to the bear’s chest. She listens for a minute and looks up. “Daddy, I think Mister Scribbles needs a second pinion. Can you help me?”

Leonard smiles and steps into the room. “Of course I’ll help you sweetheart.” He kneels beside the bed and she hands him the stethoscope. He puts it on and holds it to the bear’s chest. After a moment he takes it off and nods, “Sounds like your diagnosis is right. Have you checked his eyes yet?”

She picks up another tool and shines a light into the bear’s shiny black eyes. “I think he might have a cussion.”

“What treatment should we use?”

She puts a finger to her mouth, “Hmmm.” she looks over the tools laid out beside her. “I think he needs a bandage.” She picks up the bandage roll and wraps it around the bear’s head.

Leonard tears the bandage where indicated and ties the two ends together. He watches as she wraps both legs and the other arm before taking the stethoscope and placing to the bear’s chest. “You need to rest Mister Scribbles.” she says as she scoops the bear up and slips off the bed. She carries the bear to the window seat and lays him down. “Goodnight Mister Scribbles. I’ll check on you in the morning.” She pulls a blanket over him and pats him gently on the head.

Leonard stands and sits on the edge of the bed. Joanna runs over to him and wraps her arms around him as far as they can go. “I love you daddy!”

He lifts her off the floor and into his lap. “I love you too baby girl.” he says hugging her.

“I’m gonna miss you daddy.”

He runs a hand over her hair. “I’ll miss you too sweetheart, but I’ll send you lots of messages and talk to you every chance I get and I’ll be home again before you know it.”

She crawls under the covers and he kisses her on the forehead. “Goodnight sweetie. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She yawns and closes her eyes, “Goodnight daddy.”

The next morning Donna, Fred, Joanna, and Leonard walk up to the bustling shuttle hangar. Leonard sets his bag down and kneels in front of his daughter. “You’re gonna be a good girl and obey aunt Donna and uncle Fred?”

She holds her bear against her chest tightly and nods. “Yes daddy.”

He holds his arms out to her. She throws herself into his arms. “Daddy, I don’t want you to be lonely.” she says as she takes a step away from him. “Here,” she says holding her bear out to him, “Take Mister Scribbles with you. He’ll keep you company til you home home.”

“Are you sure you want me to take him with me? Won’t you miss him?

She nods, “But not as much as I’ll miss you daddy.”

He smiles and takes the bear, “I’ll keep him with me always.”

She sniffles and steps back to her aunt and uncle. Leonard stands and straightens his uniform. “I’ll talk to you as soon as I can.” he says as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

Donna nods and takes Joanna by the hand. “Be safe out there big brother.”

Leonard chuckles, “It’s not me you should worry about, Jim’s the trouble maker.” he says as he turns toward the hangar. He glances back over his shoulder and waves to Joanna before disappearing into the crowd.

~*~*~

Leonard sets the PADD on his desk, stands to his feet, and walks out of his office, through the med bay, and out to the nearest turbolift. A short trip up a couple decks and he steps inside his quarters, sitting in the middle of his bed is Mister Scribbles. He picks the bear up and smiles, several months in space at it still smells like her strawberries and cream shampoo. He tucks the bear under his arm and heads back down to the med bay and walking straight to the isolation room. Opening the door and quietly slipping inside he stares at the little girl in the bed, she reminds him so much of his own little girl back home. He approaches the bedside and gently brushes her hair aside, his fingers lightly grazing her forehead. She’s still warmer that she should be and a look up at her vitals confirms it.

On the other side of the bed her mother stirs in her chair. Leonard tucks the bear in beside the girl and turns to leave. Her mother smiles at him and nods. He nods back and goes back to his office to finish his report.

Two days later they arrive at the starbase. Jim tells Leonard to meet him at the docking port as soon as they are docked. Leonard grumbles but makes his way across the ship to meet the Captain. When the doors slide open he finds Jim standing beside the ambassador and her daughter. The little girl still has a slight fever but is otherwise on the mend. She has an arm around her mother’s leg and with the other arm she clutches the bear to her chest.

“Hello ma’am.”

She smiles and holds a hand out to him, “I just wanted to say thank you before we left and Sarai wanted to say something she’d like to say to you.” she says as she nudges the little girl.

Sarai steps over to him, and holds the bear up to him. “Thank you sir.”

He kneels down and takes the bear, “You’re welcome sweetheart.”

She kisses him on the cheek and runs back to her mother. Leonard stands to his feet and watches them leave. Jim looks between Leonard and the bear. Leonard shakes his head, “Shut up Jim.”

He scoffs, “I didn’t say anything!”

Leonard turns and walks back across the ship to the medbay and goes straight to his office. He sets the bear on his desk beside the photograph of Joanna and for the remainder of their time away from home the bear stays right there. Just in case.  

[meradethhouston]

After Reading: STRANGE THE DREAMER by Laini Taylor

The dream chooses the dreamer, not the other way around—and Lazlo Strange, war orphan and junior librarian, has always feared that his dream chose poorly. Since he was five years old he’s been obsessed with the mythic lost city of Weep, but it would take someone bolder than he to cross half the world in search of it. Then a stunning opportunity presents itself, in the person of a hero called the Godslayer and a band of legendary warriors, and he has to seize his chance or lose his dream forever. What happened in Weep two hundred years ago to cut it off from the rest of the world? What exactly did the Godslayer slay that went by the name of god? And what is the mysterious problem he now seeks help in solving? The answers await in Weep, but so do more mysteries—including the blue-skinned goddess who appears in Lazlo’s dreams. How did he dream her before he knew she existed? And if all the gods are dead, why does she seem so real? Welcome to Weep. (Goodreads) Welcome to October! (Wait, how did that happen? :) So the Smoke & Bone series was epic and I think I'd pretty much read toilet paper with scribbles on it by Taylor at this point. She ranks amongst my absolute favorite authors. I've meant to get to this one for a while, and then while reading, kicked myself for not devouring it earlier. Though, bonus, the sequel comes out tomorrow so perhaps my timing wasn't so abismal. At any rate, I adored this. The switching between perspectives was a touch jarring at first, but I came to deeply love Sarai along with Strange. They were so...human (which only makes sense in context of the rest of the novel). Anyhow, as I would expect from Taylor, the worldbuilding was fantastic and fantastical. I love all the little sprinkled details and fabulous concepts (the cusp especially!). Overall, I just wanted to crawl into it and live there, monsters and gods included. The ending...oh the ending. All I can really say is that I am absolutely glad I preordered the next book and it'll be in my hot little hands on Tuesday! Have you read any of Taylor's books? http://dlvr.it/Qlwz0S